


words hurt

by wingsoficarus



Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: M/M, Male Sheik (Legend of Zelda), Mild Angst, Sheik is a Separate Character, Tier lists sure are interesting things, the fire emblem smashers aren't all that nice to low-tiers, tier-based discrimination? more likely than you think, who actually needs self-esteem? Sheik sure doesn't!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsoficarus/pseuds/wingsoficarus
Summary: In which the other characters around Smashville attempt to get Sheik to show a side other than the one he presents to the world, and Sheik merely gets more aggressive in response.Pre-DLC.
Relationships: My Unit | Kamui | Corrin/Sheik (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 6





	words hurt

"So, what do you guys think of that new guy over there?" Roy asked as he sat down at the table. "They look strong. I'd like to test my strength against them sometime." 

"...Roy, that's Sheik." Marth said, suppressing a laugh. 

"What the-" Roy twisted in his seat to look back at the Sheikah who was currently sitting alone at a table in the corner. "I didn't even recognize him!" 

"Honestly, Roy. I don't know what goes through your head sometimes." Marth sighed and shook his head. He went back to picking at the eggs and toast he'd grabbed from the breakfast bar. 

"It's not his fault." Ike remarked. "Sheik does look quite different than he has in the past." 

"Still, you'd think that the Sheikah eye symbol on his chest would be enough to clue him in." Marth replied. 

Roy sighed and plunked his head on the table, careful to avoid the bowl of cereal he had in front of him. "Can we just drop this?" Roy groaned.

"You've brought this upon yourself." Marth said, although he sounded like he was teasing Roy more than actually being upset at him. 

"Just wait until Sheik hears about this." Robin said, contributing to the discussion for the first time. He had been seemingly absorbed in his book until this moment, but now he glanced cautiously over at Sheik while he spoke. 

Roy had never wanted to disappear more than he wanted to now. "I'm dead. I'm so dead." he groaned. 

Link, who happened to be passing by while he spoke, cautiously reached out and patted Roy's head. "Don't worry about it, Roy. I'm sure it can't be that bad." 

Marth hid a very undignified chuckle behind his hand. "You weren't around last tournament to witness his wrath, Link."

"Huh? I've spoken to him twice, and he hasn't seemed that... irritable?" Link looked confused. Like, really confused. 

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet." Marth warned darkly. 

Link walked off to join Toon Link, Young Link, and Zelda like usual. He still looked faintly confused as he sat down with the rest of his friends. 

"Did you have to scare him that badly?" Ike asked Marth. 

"Well, he deserves to know what's coming. It's only a matter of time." Marth replied ominously. 

Corrin, who was seated a little farther down the table, scoffed. "Come on, Marth. Admit it. You're scared of him." 

"You should be scared of him too!" Marth exclaimed, a little louder than he had intended to. 

"Marth, he's just a guy. A very intimidating and mysterious guy, sure, but he's not scary." Corrin pointed out. 

"I don't trust people like him." Lucina commented. "He reminds me of the Grimleal. Too much dark magic for me." As if to make a point, she shuddered. 

Roy peeked over at Sheik again. 

And this time, the Sheikah was looking back at him. 

"Guys. Stop talking." Roy said. "He's looking over here." 

Immediately, all conversation halted. 

"Why don't we talk about something else?" Robin suggested, faking a laugh. 

"Good idea." Lucina replied hurriedly. 

-/-/-/-

Sheik was many things, but he wasn't stupid. 

He knew that the assorted Fire Emblem Smashers had been talking about him. _Again._

If the furtive glances over at his table weren't enough to clue him in, it was the brief conversation that had taken place between Marth and the _Hero_ that confirmed his suspicions. 

The rest of the Smashers were scared of him, he knew. They avoided him whenever they could. Which was just fine with him. He preferred being alone. Of course, it was breakfast, and any moment now the younger Hero he was more familiar with would come over and try to get Sheik to join the Hylian Smashers. To which Sheik would reply with something either very passive aggressive or downright rude, depending on his mood. 

As if on cue, the younger Hero stopped in front of Sheik's table. 

"Would you like to join us today?" he asked, a hopeful grin on his face. 

"No." Sheik replied without looking up. "I've told you this before. You are Hylians, and I am a Sheikah. I have no business sitting with you. Now get away from me." 

It was possible that seeing the Fire Emblem Smashers gossiping about him had pissed him off more than he had thought. 

The younger Hero's face fell. "Okay. Sorry I bothered you."

Sheik didn't reply. Instead, he subtly touched the dagger he wore at his waist in warning. 

After the blond Hylian got the message and ran away, Sheik tried to force himself to eat something. But no, he wasn't hungry anymore. He'd hardly eaten anything today, but that was fine. He was used to not eating much for long periods of time. Sure, that probably didn't help his irritability, but he didn't care all that much. 

Angrily, Sheik shoved his tray away from him and stood up. After a moment, he picked the tray up again and went over to the garbage disposal.

He could feel people staring at him while he walked out of the dining hall, but he couldn't be bothered to turn around and see who it was. 

Sheik's first stop after leaving the dining hall was the matches board, where the Hands posted the match schedule for the day. Each fighter had a certain number of matches to fulfill based on their overall rank. Conveniently, the rankings board was right next to the matches board. 

He was at the bottom of the board, so he didn't have that many required matches to do today. Just looking at the rankings board was sure to make him want to put a fist through something breakable (preferably that goddamn board itself) so he didn't bother checking. 

Today he was scheduled to fight Corrin, Little Mac, and Lucina. Two of those were an easy win, for sure. But Lucina was one of the Hands's pet fighters this time around, and she was near the top of the board. One of the best fighters here. 

Sheik remembered those days. He used to be at the top. Last tournament, people had started complaining that he was _too_ powerful, so he'd had some of his strength taken away. That hadn't really stopped him, but now... nothing worked. None of his old attacks worked the same way. 

He was _weak_ again. 

He was weak again, and now he had to work twice as hard to get the respect that he deserved. 

His hand curled into a fist to hide the shaking. To his dismay, frustrated _tears_ pricked at the back of his eyes. 

_Weak._

_Worthless._

Someone came up behind him and tapped his shoulder. 

It was _him._ The _Hero._ The stupidly perfect, blond-haired, blue-eyed Hylian Hero. 

"Hey, Sheik? Are you alright?" the Hero asked. His blue eyes looked so earnest... so unlike the eyes of the other fighters when they looked at him. 

"I'm fine. Don't touch me." Sheik nearly spat the words out, his infuriating Sheikah accent making his words sound less threatening and more musical. His accent was rarely a problem unless he was caught off guard, like he was was now. 

The Hero didn't remove his hand, so Sheik did it for him. Forcefully. 

Sheik gripped the Hero's forearm and twisted, releasing as he started to pull his arm back. He very nearly smiled cruelly upon seeing the Hero's reaction, as the Hylian's pain and shock was written all over his face. 

"I told you, don't _fucking_ touch me. You're wasting your time. Go find somebody else to comfort, because I don't need your pity." Sheik snarled. 

And so Sheik turned around without bothering to wait for the Hero's next words. Or his reaction. 

After all, he did have a match to get ready for. Little Mac was his first opponent of the day, and he was looking forward to taking his aggression out on someone. Even if that someone had never really personally offended him in the first place. 

-/-/-/-

"Link, what's wrong?" Zelda asked as she sat down next to him in the stands of the arena. At the moment, the stage was bare, but soon enough, Little Mac and Sheik would make their entrances. "You look upset." 

"I do?" Link asked, looking up from the bare arena. "I was just thinking about something that someone said to me earlier." 

"Do you want to talk about it at all? I mean, you didn't look too happy. Whatever it was couldn't have been that good." Zelda said, looking concerned. 

"Well, I told you about what Marth said to me at breakfast." Link started. "Later, I went to go check the matches board, and Sheik was there. He didn't look too happy, so I put my hand on his shoulder to get his attention and I asked if he was alright. He told me to remove my hand, and I didn't. So he grabbed my forearm and twisted it- see, there's a bit of a bruise here." He rolled up his sleeve and showed the faint, hand-shaped bruise to Zelda. "He told me that I was wasting my time and that he didn't want my pity."

Zelda frowned. "That's really rude of him." 

"Yeah. I thought he was nice, if a bit cold, when I talked to him before..." Link sighed. "I'm just letting this bother me more than I should, I think."

Any further conversation was halted when the lights suddenly went dark over the audience, and spotlights shone on the center of the arena. 

"Welcome to the Arena, Smashers! We've got a full slate of battles today, so I hope you're all ready for some action!" The Announcer called, which was met with an astounding roar of approval from the crowd. "Kicking off today's low-tier matches, we have the elusive Sheik versus Little Mac, the bruiser from the Bronx!"

Sheik appeared on the stage in his customary puff of smoke, and Little Mac ran out onto the stage shortly afterwards. The boxer threw off his pink warm-up jacket and posed briefly. Even from the stands, the irritation in Sheik's figure was as plain as day. 

"THREE! TWO! ONE!" The Announcer called. The crowd chanted along with him, screaming "GO!!!" at the top of their lungs on cue. 

Surprising no one, Little Mac was the one who made the first move. He ran towards Sheik, attempting to land a powerful uppercut. The Sheikah merely sidestepped it and grabbed Little Mac's arm, then brought his knee to the boxer's stomach. He repeated the action two more times, then threw him to the side. The momentum carried Little Mac high into the air in a graceful arc, ending with him crashing to the ground. Instead of following up on his advantage, Sheik stood back and prepared some needles. It was a perplexing move, but Link saw why he'd done it as soon as Little Mac got to his feet again.

Little Mac stood and tried to advance, but he didn't get very far before Sheik threw the needles he'd prepared. Shocked, Little Mac stopped dead in his tracks, and Sheik began his attack in earnest. 

The Sheikah landed blow after blow, driving his fists into Little Mac's abdomen, his face, his chest. He ended the string of attacks with a vicious punch straight to the boxer's nose. Little Mac fell to the ground and stayed there for a solid three seconds, clearly trying to regain his bearings. Sheik walked forward, ready to end the match, but Little Mac took advantage of the small opening and tackled Sheik, driving him to the ground. There was a sickening crack as the back of Sheik's head collided with the ground, and Link winced in sympathy. 

Now it was Little Mac's turn to beat his opponent up, and he made good use of the power in his punches to give the seemingly unconscious Sheikah a taste of his own medicine. Just as he was about to land the finishing punch, Sheik kneed him in the groin and kicked out of his hold. There was a faint ring of steel on leather as he drew his dagger, then dropped into a half crouch as he waited for Little Mac to get up. Sure enough, he did, and Link could have _sworn_ that he heard Sheik laugh. He ducked unsteadily under Little Mac's clumsy punch, any of his usual grace seemingly gone. 

Then he rammed his dagger into Little Mac's gut with more force than Link would have thought necessary. Sure, the Smashers couldn't get killed during these fights, but still. They did suffer injuries, such as broken bones or concussions. Little Mac would definitely be feeling this injury for a few days. 

"The winner is... Sheik!" The Announcer exclaimed. The crowd started chanting Sheik's name, like usual. Whenever someone won a match, the crowd would chant their name. Usually, the winner would do a flashy pose of some sort, but Sheik looked too exhausted to do anything of the sort. He was wobbling as he walked when the white-robed medical staff came on to the field to assist him, but he slapped their hands away and continued walking. 

He didn't get halfway back to the exit before he collapsed, meaning that he'd likely be done with his battles for the day. 

-/-/-/-

When Sheik woke up again, he was lying in the infirmary with a splitting headache. Everything hurt, and the low voices by his bedside were too loud. 

He tried to sit up, but someone rushed over and pushed him back down. 

"You've got a bad concussion. Stay down." Who was talking to him? Their voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. 

"Who-" Sheik started asking, but the same person placed a finger over his mouth. 

Which was when he realized two things. One, he wasn't wearing his mask. Two, a stranger had seen his face. And was touching it.

"Get your damn hands off of me." Sheik hissed. 

"Look, you asshole, I'm trying to help you. You're going to be staying here overnight, and your other matches have been cancelled. So I suggest you lose the attitude and do what I tell you." Sheik still couldn't really see who was talking to him, and they hadn't removed their hand. 

"I said get your hands off of me!" Sheik tried to yell, but his voice wasn't cooperating all that much. Also, raising his voice made his head hurt more. He hissed in pain and closed his eyes. 

Whoever was helping him removed their hands and muttered something that sounded like "even while concussed, you're still an arrogant little bastard." 

"I heard that." Sheik snapped. He opened his eyes and squinted at the person looming over him, which didn't really help that much. "I can still fight, tell Master Hand that I'm fine-"

"You're not fine, Sheik." And finally, he knew who it was. 

The Hero.

Angrily, Sheik forced himself to sit up. The action made his head spin and throb, and a wave of nausea accompanied the ache. "I feel fine. Don't lecture me, _Hero._ " Sheik was well aware that he was slurring his words a bit. But it was so hard to concentrate. He'd really fucked up by letting Little Mac get past his guard like that. 

"Don't make me go get Doctor Mario." The Hero threatened. Now that Sheik was sitting up, he could see his stupidly perfect face. It was contorted in a frown, and seeing the anger on his face was oddly satisfying. Good. He did feel emotions after all. That just made it easier for Sheik to hate him. 

"Or what? He'll knock me out? I don't fucking care. I feel fine, I don't know why you're insisting I rest." Sheik knew he was being unreasonable, but he really didn't care. It was better for everyone if they hated him too.

Suddenly, the Hero was gripping his shoulders and forcing him to lay down again. "Stay here. If you get up again, I won't be as gentle with you."

"Haven't I told you to get your hands off of me?" Sheik hissed. His head was throbbing, but he was determined to stay conscious in front of the Hero he so despised. 

The Hero's eyes glimmered dangerously, and he looked like he wanted to hit Sheik. That would be funny, actually. The almighty Hero of Hyrule beating up a worthless, pathetic waste of space Sheikah in a hospital bed because he lost his temper. 

"Hit me. I dare you." Sheik whispered. 

Instead of falling for the taunt, the Hero scoffed and let go of Sheik's shoulders. He walked away, presumably to find Doctor Mario. 

There was nobody else here. Not even Little Mac seemed to be here. Great. Just great. 

Rebelliously, Sheik sat up again. The movement only brought back the nausea he'd felt earlier, only this time it was worse. He winced and put a hand to his head, noticing the bandages on his knuckles. That was weird, but he didn't think much of it. Must have bruised his knuckles on his opponent's face. 

"Sheik, you really ought to lay back down." Doctor Mario said, sighing as he walked over to see Sheik directly disobeying his orders. 

"I shouldn't have to. I feel fine." Sheik snapped. 

"On the contrary, the irritability in your tone suggests otherwise. Lay down, or you'll injure that brain of yours further." Doctor Mario's tone left no room for argument, even if Sheik could argue with anyone. Also, the syringe in the doctor's left hand was enough to shut him up.

So Sheik did as he was told, glaring at the Hero and Doctor Mario as he laid down again. "Would you at least send the hero away before you knock me out?" 

Doctor Mario nodded and gestured to the door. "Link, if you wouldn't mind...?"

Much to Sheik's relief, he nodded and walked away. Now that he wasn't in the room, some of the tension disappeared from Sheik's shoulders. 

"I don't quite understand why you hate him." Doctor Mario remarked as he rolled up Sheik's sleeve and prepared to inject the serum. 

Sheik winced slightly as the needle pricked his skin- goddesses, he was sensitive today- and sighed. "You're trying to get me to talk about my problems because you how the serum fucks with my head." 

"It was worth a try." Doctor Mario smiled wryly and stepped back. "Sleep well."

"I'm not going to be here overnight, right?" Sheik asked as he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. 

"Depends on how long the serum needs to work." Doctor Mario replied. 

"Good. I'm... stronger than this. I... don't need... to stay... overnight." Sheik mumbled, barely finishing his sentence before he passed out. 

-/-/-/-

"Why are we here, Corrin?" 

"Because you've got to apologize for some of the shit you said." 

"Look, he's sleeping. We should just come back later."

"No, Marth. I know you're looking for a way to get out of this."

Goddesses damn those Fire Emblem Smashers. They were awfully loud, and for some cursed reason, his head was still aching. 

"Would you both shut the fuck up?" Sheik snapped, not bothering to open his eyes. 

"You're awake. Good." 

Sheik opened his eyes and glared at the two swordsmen. "What's this about? Come to gloat about how low I've dropped in the rankings since last tournament?"

Marth winced. "No."

"Either way, I don't want to hear it. I'm sick of all you Fire Emblem Smashers taking every single opportunity available to rub how _useless_ I am in my face." Sheik said flatly.

"Actually, I've brought Marth to apologize for that specific reason." Corrin said, seemingly unbothered by Sheik's harsh words. 

Sheik scoffed. "Oh yeah? That's nice. I don't care."

"Listen, I'm not doing this for you." Marth snapped. Apparently even the wise Hero-King himself could get angry. Fascinating. "I'm only doing it because he's making me." As he spoke, Marth jerked a thumb towards Corrin with an irritated sigh. "So, sorry. For whatever I said."

"Great. Now get out of here." Sheik replied. 

"Fantastic." Marth turned on his heel and walked out, but Corrin stayed behind. 

Sheik raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to follow your friend?"

"Not yet." Corrin responded. 

Suddenly, Sheik was all too aware of the fact that he still hadn't found his mask. Where had Doctor Mario put it? Far too many people had actually seen his face by now. It was shameful, to be completely honest. 

Just one more thing he'd failed at doing, he supposed. 

"Why not?" Sheik asked, too perplexed and caught off guard to put the usual bite in his words.

"Because I want to talk to you. Is that a crime?" Corrin smiled a bit at him as he replied, which was... odd. People weren't supposed to smile at him- especially not mildly attractive strangers with other options for someone to talk to. 

"You're better off talking with someone more popular than me." Sheik said, suddenly feeling the urge to drop eye contact. Which was weird, because he was stronger than that. It took more than one smile to make him flustered, didn't it?

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the most popular guy out there either." Corrin pointed out. "In any case, if you don't mind me asking... why is it that you're so prickly?"

"That's a good question. Why don't you ask literally any of the other Smashers?" Sheik laughed bitterly. 

Corrin frowned, clearly confused. "I'm not quite sure I know what you mean."

"It's really not all that hard."

"Humor me."

Sheik didn't want to explain himself. Why should he? This was none of Corrin's business. But for some odd reason, he felt like he could trust the silver-haired boy in front of him. Maybe it was just his head injury acting up. Yeah, that had to be it.

Of course, he should be healed by now because of the serum, but Sheik chose to ignore that part.

After realizing that he had gone completely silent, and that Corrin was just sitting there awkwardly and looking at him, Sheik decided to just play it off like he normally would. Just ignore the weird feelings and they would go away.

"No." Sheik said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

To his surprise, Corrin leaned forward ever so slightly and tilted his head to the side. "You're an interesting guy, Sheik."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sheik asked, half on impulse and half because he was trying to hide how oddly flustered he felt.

"I think you already know what it means."

"I don't."

"To put it simply, you act like a jerk to everybody. But you're not really a jerk deep down, are you?" Corrin had a small smile on his face as he regarded him. Honestly, it was very strange. People didn't smile at him. Or even try to say what he was like on the inside.

"How do you know that?" Sheik asked.

"I'm a pretty good judge of character." Corrin shrugged nonchalantly. "I've met people who are jerks through and through. You're different. It's hard for me to get a read on you."

His eyes were a striking red color. Sheik hadn't really noticed that before now. Sure, he knew that Corrin had red eyes, but he'd never had the opportunity to study them up close like this. For a moment, Sheik didn't respond, as he was too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

"That means I'm doing my job." Sheik replied, and his voice turned bitter as he continued speaking. "I'm nobody. Just another low-tier loser. You're wasting your time, Corrin."

"So am I. We're both low-tiers now." Corrin pointed out. "It sucks, yeah. And the other smashers shouldn't be picking on you for it. But you're not a loser, Sheik. Far from it, actually. From what I can tell, you're someone who doesn't give up. So I'm here to remind you that there are people who still think you have what it takes to get to the top of that damn board."

"Pick someone else to use your pretty words on." Sheik snapped. "I told you, it's a waste of time."

"You'd never be a waste of time."

Sheik's breath caught in his throat.

"Just.. remember that, alright?" Corrin stood up and turned to leave. He hesitated for a second, and then reached for something on the side table.

His mask. It had been right there this whole time.

"Why are you doing this?" Sheik asked.

"Because I don't think you're as bad as everyone says you are. You're better than you give yourself credit for." Corrin replied simply. He held the mask out to Sheik, almost like it was a peace offering or something. "And I don't quite get why you're keeping such a pretty face behind a mask like this."

For a moment, Sheik just sat there, staring stupidly at Corrin as he tried to comprehend what he'd just said. Holy Hylia herself. What was he supposed to do when an attractive guy called him pretty? He had next to no experience in this situation- wait, had he just admitted to thinking Corrin was attractive?

Goddesses. How hard had he been hit on the head?

"I... thank you." Sheik finally managed to stutter. He took his mask, his hand meeting Corrin's for half a second. He withdrew his hand quickly, almost like he'd been burned, but that didn't matter. It certainly didn't change the fact that he was certain his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. "And the reason I cover my face... it's partially tradition and partially because I don't enjoy being stared at."

"I certainly don't blame people for staring, but I can see why you'd dislike it." Corrin laughed quietly and even _winked_ at him. 

With that, the silver-haired boy finally turned to leave. Sheik should've just let him leave. Normally, he would've. But for some inexplicable reason, he called after him.

"Corrin- can I see you again?"

"It would be hard not to."

"No, I mean... alone. Just you and me."

He turned his head and smiled. "I'd like that."

And Sheik found himself smiling back at Corrin.


End file.
